


goodnight moon

by ebenroot



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pillow Talk, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-08 10:46:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12252771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ebenroot/pseuds/ebenroot





	goodnight moon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rayrayswimusic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rayrayswimusic/gifts).



Victor smells like sunflowers, especially at the nape of his neck, and it’s strongest when he’s just stepped out of the showers.

Yuuri knows this only because he’s trying not to place his lips up against the fine silver hair against Victor’s neck. It’s so easy to do so though, with the warmth of Victor’s back against his front and his arms wound around Victor’s torso.

The softness of the hotel’s bedsheets feels nice against his bare legs. The glow of Barcelona through the hotel’s curtains outline Victor’s sleeping figure in an alluring silhouette. He almost looks like a dream, a figure that would disappear deep into the shadows of Yuuri’s subconscious if he weren’t holding to him so tight.

Along the ridges of his knuckles, Yuuri feels a thumb swipe across his skin.

It’s such a fleeting touch that Yuuri almost doesn’t reacts to it. Almost.

"...Are you awake?" Yuuri asks aloud, right against Victor’s sweet smelling skin.

"Maybe," Victor responds. If he is awake, it’s just only by a thread of alertness. His voice sounds groggy, his vowels sound out in long drawls of his tongue.

He shifts in the bed and their legs get caught up together as he turns over onto his other side to properly face Yuuri. It rather hurts Yuuri to see how beautiful Victor looks, barely centimeters away from his face. It’s a good kind of ache, just at the tip of his sternum, burning hot when he sees Victor’s smile go lopsided with sleep.

"Why are you awake?" Victor asks. He has the nerve to lightly push at the tip of Yuuri’s nose, and his smile gets sillier. "Shouldn’t you be resting, Mr. Silver Medalist?"

Yuuri knows he should. His body is exhausted and his mind is tired from socializing at the banquet, shaking hands and accepting verbal congratulations instead of congratulatory pours of champagne. Well, sort of abstain. He had a few glasses, but not that many. At least, he _thinks_ it wasn’t that many.

"I was just thinking," Yuuri answers. His hand moves on its own underneath the bedspread, thumbing along the curve of Victor’s hip without any sort of purpose. It fills Yuuri up with something he can’t describe. It feels like more than happiness at the opportunity of having Victor in bed, to feel the softness of his skin beneath his fingertips and be the only one that gets to see the sleepy glint in his eyes. It feels like absolute bliss.

"Really?" Victor pipes up, and Yuuri just barely catches a brief inflection of concern in his voice. It’s dark in the bedroom, but Yuuri can see the outline of Victor’s lips twisting ever so slightly. "Should I be concerned?"

"No," Yuuri answers, knowing what Victor is getting at. He’s still serious about getting another gold medal. He serious about continuing to be by Victor’s side. The gold rings still snug around both of their fingers is absolute _proof_ that he wants this to go past the Grand Prix Finals and onwards to infinity.

But that’s the thing. What does ‘infinity together’ hold for them?

Victor smiles. It’s warm and holds tendrils of sleep, his long eyelashes slowly beginning to flutter.

"We’ll talk in the morning, but it’s time to go to sleep, solnyshko," he says, yawn tapering the end of his words. He raises his hand and curls it gently around the back of Yuuri’s head, threading his fingers through his hair. Victor then pulls Yuuri close enough so he can leave sleepy butterfly kisses at the tip of his brow, at the corners of his eyes, one to the tip of his nose and then lastly, a kiss to his chapped lips.

Yuuri hums against the seam of Victor’s mouth, smiling into the soft press of them.

"Goodnight," he murmurs, tucking his head just underneath Victor’s chin and winding his arms back around Victor’s bare torso. Victor’s lips kiss at the crown of his head. There are a few quiet moments that pass before Yuuri can hear the sound of Victor’s gentle sleeping breath.

He falls asleep with ease, nosing along Victor’s pulse point and dreams of sunflowers.

 

* * *

 

They don’t share a bed until three days into their return to Hasetsu after the finals.

“Can I go to bed with you?” Victor asks Yuuri in the hallway, standing in the doorway of his bedroom left untouched during their time away.

Yuuri blushes, but gives a quick glance around before he quietly nods his head in agreement. Victor smiles and he pats the side of his thigh to call Makkachin over, both leaving the space of Victor’s bedroom to head towards Yuuri’s.

There’s a brief pause. “Wouldn’t you want to sleep in your bed?” Yuuri asks, looking down at Makkachin panting up at him happily. He looks back up at Victor, smile kind on his lips. “It’ll be bigger.”

“I want to be close to you,” Victor pouts.

“It’s going to be a tight fit,” Yuuri warns, letting them both in anyways.

The walls of his bedroom are still bare, the posters of Victor still shoved underneath the box spring of his mattress. Victor takes a moment to admire the small interior of Yuuri’s room, a small smile beginning to curve onto his lips.

He toes at a small pile of dirty clothes Yuuri shucked off in a hurry resting by the base of the bed. "You can’t be doing this when you move in with me. I like a clean workflow," Victor lightly scolds.

Yuuri means to say, "I have a system."

He instead stammers out, "M-Moving in?"

Victor plops himself down on the mattress and it squeaks with his weight. Makkachin clambers onto the bed shortly after, and Yuuri sees that there is a sliver of room left for him.

Victor cocks his head to the side, slightly perplexed. "Don’t couples normally move in together when they’re engaged?" he asks, raising his right hand to show off the ring he’s yet to remove.

Yuuri blushes at that, scratching at his cheek with the tip of his finger. "O-Oh. Well, yeah."

Victor pats at the small available space on the bed, smiling. Yuuri gets the idea and turns off the lights with a flick of the switch.

He takes his glasses off and rests them on his desk, before he crosses over to the bed and tries to squeeze himself in beside Makkachin and Victor. It’s a tight fit - like he said - and they struggle to get the blankets around everyone without Yuuri accidentally falling over the edge of the bed.

They succeed after a few awkward turns and twists. Yuuri has his back pressed against Victor’s front, with Makkachin resting over both of their legs twined together. Victor lightly ghosts his lips against the shell of Yuuri’s ear, his breath warm and delivering a tickling chill up Yuuri’s spine as he sighs.

"St. Petersburg is nice in the winter," Victor says into Yuuri’s hair. He splays his hand against Yuuri’s stomach, sliding it just underneath the thin cotton of Yuuri’s shirt. "I can show you all the places that I love to shop and dine at."

"My Russian isn’t any good," Yuuri confesses. He’s got a working understanding of it. He can say maybe string together a few words together to form a grammatically correct sentence. Reading and listening to it non stop is another story, however.

"You’ll learn. I can teach you and translate just as you’ve done for me," Victor says.

Yuuri gives a quiet hum to that.

They reside in the silence for a moment, Yuuri getting comfortable and relaxing into Victor’s warmth. Victor begins to lightly kiss down the nape of Yuuri’s neck, his hand roaming up further to rest against Yuuri’s chest, right above Yuuri’s steady beating heart.

"And your training?" Yuuri asks. Victor smiles into Yuuri’s skin.

"We’ll be rinkmates! Us and Yuri and Mila and Georgi - I’m sure Mila will christen your welcome by pranking you one way or another," he muses aloud.

"It’s not something going to be completely traumatizing, is it?"

" _Noooo_ ," Victor chuckles. "It might be something like filling your skates with silly string. She only uses cruel pranks on people that deserve it."

Yuuri sincerely hopes there will never be a time that Mila thinks he _deserves_ one of those types of pranks.

"You’ll probably be training under Yakov too," Victor then says. His hand moves back down from Yuuri’s chest in a slow, languid stroke. It curves over Yuuri’s hip and his thumb skits along the hem of his basketball shorts a little bit teasing. Yuuri’s body gives another shiver.

"We’ll practice together and we’ll stay in bed wrapped up in our blankets just like this...well, maybe not as crowded, but-" he presses another light kiss to Yuuri’s neck. "I want to kiss you like this every time we wake up in the morning."

Yuuri feels warm in his cheeks. He’s smiling against the cotton of his pillow.

"Yeah?"

"And I’ll cook you breakfast every day," Victor continues. "I’ll cook you breakfast and make your coffee the way you like it, and we’ll have breakfast in bed and watch infomercials until Yakov nags us to come to the rink to practice."

Yuuri quietly laughs, the sound only for Victor’s ears. "Sounds nice," he says. Victor kisses at his ear, just a peck.

"Consider it practice for when we’re living together as a _married_ couple," Victor says. The way he speaks makes it sound like the wind was coaxed out of his lungs and he’s floating on it. His hold on Yuuri is tighter, pulling Yuuri in even closer to his body.

Yuuri thinks about that, about them being together and happily married. He thinks about just how lucky he is to have fallen in love with someone he’s admired for so long and to know they love him back twice as much. His husband. They’re going to have so many more of these nights together, lying in bed and talking with their legs tangled together and Makkachin’s curly fur against their skin.

It makes Yuuri feel that giddy happiness again. His smile on his face is so big that it hurts something sweet in his cheeks.

"I better win the next five championships then," he says with a breathy laugh that Victor echoes against Yuuri’s hair.

Another round of silence. Yuuri feels tired, but there’s still a buzz in his bones that isn’t going away so quickly. Maybe he’s too excited to go to sleep just yet, too busy planning his future with Victor as his student and his rinkmate and his fiancé. His eyelashes are fluttering and the warm touch of Victor’s hands makes him feel lethargic. He gives another hum, but it sounds tired like he’s smothering a yawn.

"Go to sleep, solnyshko," Victor whispers. His voice is gentle and groggy with sleep, only partially awake if Yuuri still wants to continue talking.

Yuuri rubs at his eyes and begins to turn in the bed. He nearly slips off, and his left leg is beginning to hang out the side of the bed as he moves to face Victor.

The messy sweep of silver hair over Victor’s eyes is endearing. It makes Yuuri smile when he thinks that this disheveled Victor is his. He raises his hand that wears the ring still on his finger to Victor’s cheek, lightly tracing his cheekbone and his jawline with the tip of his index finger.

Victor lets him. His eyelids flutter closed to Yuuri’s touch as he indulges in it. Slowly, Yuuri leans in close to press a sleepy kiss to Victor’s crooked mouth.

"I love you," Yuuri murmurs against Victor’s mouth, kissing it again for good measure. He could say that so many times and never tire of it. He kisses Victor for a third time because he knows he has all the time in the world and in their shared future to say ‘I love you’ as much as he wants.

And he wants to say that forever.


End file.
